


Trapped in a Dream

by drunkdragon



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 07:05:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12293898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkdragon/pseuds/drunkdragon
Summary: It was just a cup, she told herself again.





	Trapped in a Dream

They were coming for her. Maria had always known it was just a matter of time, and when she saw the church hunters gathering at the front of the research hall, the day had come. An unaffiliated hunter - a hunter with no loyalties, no debts, no friendships, no bonds, and one as powerful as her - in the scheme of all things was a risk. The strength they bore, the vices they could succumb to, the dangers were simply too great.

And though she made it clear time and time again that she had no intention of interfering with the the church, with Yahar’gul, with Mensis, with Byrgenworth, the very group that granted her asylum out of respect had now turned its back against her.

The research was not progressing fast enough. Her coddling of the patients was interfering with results. She was tampering with the specimens. Any possible excuse was thrown at her, and suspicion gave way to action.

The members of the Healing Church were now banging on the heavy doors of the clocktower, the ones that moved only at her command. With each heavy pound, soft bits of dust trickled down from the rafters, from the gears that never moved. Never mind that she had taken part on that damned task in the fishing village, that a terrible sin occurred at her hands, all for their thirst for knowledge and the ‘furthering’ of mankind. All of the other hunters who she had joined were either killed, with the enemy, or conveniently missing.

Not even Gehrman was spared. Maria prided herself on being a woman of her own accord, but the ‘disappearance’ of her master had always struck a terrible note within her. He was a friend and mentor, one that she could turn to, had turned to for so many questions and thoughts when her own judgment was not enough. And now that he was gone, all she had left was an old photo of them, of her fellow trainees and him as their instructor.

Another pound at the door dragged her away from the photo. Time was running short. The framework would not last forever once the church brought the heavier armaments to bear. Setting the photo down on the small table at her side, she reached and grasped the goblet, the only other thing she had prepared.

She had been planning it for some time. Hailing from Cainhurst, the blood and body she carried was unique. The church would stop at nothing to have her body for experiments, to turn her into one of those things in that wandered through the research hall below. It was killing two birds with one stone. And with her affinity towards bloodcraft and how resilient she already was as a hunter, mere weaponry would not be enough.

And yet even now she hesitated.

It was just a cup, she told herself again. Ignore the viscous liquid inside. Ignore the fact that it would be the last thing she would ever drink.

Mixed within the sweet wine was poison. Specifically, a poison from a snake that would interfere with the normal functions of blood and the nervous system. Respiratory malfunction, paralysis of the heart, both of these symptoms common among snake poison would kill her given time.

But the church had access to healing blood, tools that could reverse the damage. The only thing that would halt their attempts entirely would be a poison that would cause her blood to coagulate and solidify. As soon as the healing blood entered her own body, the poison would make it useless in a quick enough period of time.

It was just a cup, and Maria closed her eyes, drinking until she could stomach the taste no further. Leaning back in her chair, she counted the ticks of the clock.

Five minutes. She would give the poison five minutes to start its process, and then she would fight. Give the church hell for what it had done, what it had made her do.

And perhaps, just perhaps, she might see Gehrman again.

**Author's Note:**

> I've always had an idea that Maria ultimately offed herself...


End file.
